


First

by isitandwonder



Series: Sherlock Advent Calendar [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:25:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided to do an advent calendar. It feels a bit ambitious but I'll post a short drabble every day. It's not necessarily a continuing story, only some little vignettes of John and Sherlock together. It's tagged explicit, for there will be smut – not always but every so often...<br/>Also, I'm open to prompts, so if you desire something special, feel free to ask – I'll oblige if possible. Just use the comment section below or email me at blue888@web.de.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

It had started as an ordinary evening: take away, tea, watching telly on the sofa.

But then Sherlock got bored.

A bored Sherlock normally led to bullet holes in the living room wall or something vile exploding in the kitchen, leaving unsavoury stains on the floor or ceiling.

But today it led to a panting John, grabbing the arm rest of the couch until his knuckles turned white while Sherlock stroked his straining cock with slender fingers.  
There had been no pretext of tender words or gentle kissing, just a pale hand resting casually on John's thigh, moving insistently upwards while John had experienced increasing difficulty to concentrate on the Attenborough documentary he was progressively only pretending to watch.

At first, John had thought nothing of it; Sherlock never respected personal boundaries. Perhaps he was just testing the bone and muscle structure of the average British male around forty; until it became very clear that he wasn't.

The moment John fully realised that something wos off was when Sherlock unmistakeably and rather deftly groped his groin through his jeans before slowly but deliberately unbuttoning his fly to sneak a hand inside John's pants.

John's cock was still soft and as the shock of being touched in _this_ way by _that_ man nearly short circuited his brain, savouring the event seemed utterly futile.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes John.” Sherlock sounded not exactly aroused but rather intrigued and fascinated (which might correspond to more carnal feelings in ‘normal’ people).

“What are you doing?” John asked, trying desperately not to overinterpret what was happening right here in their living room. For all he knew, Sherlock might just be verifying an alibi.

“Giving you a hand job, do keep up.”

“All right, just checking.”

“Problem?”

“Absolutely not.”

That settled, John decided just to go with the flow and giving himself over to Sherlock's surprisingly tactile administration. He watched mesmerised as his cock thickened and hardened while being touched by very adept fingers. His glans turned nearly purple and glistened wetly, oozing generous amounts of precome that lubricated Sherlock's slightly calloused fingers very conveniently while John was thoroughly reduced to a panting sweaty mess.

“God, Sherlock… yes, just like that.” John mumbled in encouragement – not that it was needed but it felt a bit more polite than just taking what was offered in silence. Sherlock sped up, his fist on John's cock making obscenely smacking sounds until John threw his head back, covering his eyes with his free arm. He was nearly sobbing as he came, shooting hot streaks of semen over Sherlock's hand and his own shirt.

After his orgasm ebbed John stayed like this, eyes screwed shut, breathing hard, until he heard Sherlock inquire in an unusually cautious tone: “John?”

“Yes, Sherlock, what is it?” He drifted happily on a cloud of bliss, unsure if he was willing to face the enormity of what had just happened between them quite so soon.

“That was… interesting.” Sherlock declared, sounding almost dreamily.

“Understatement of the century.” John finally looked at a slightly dishevelled and delightfully pink cheeked Sherlock, who regarded his wet and sticky fingers with some kind of awe, before raising his head to meet John's gaze.

“May I take a sample of your impressive amount of discharge for further study?”

John chuckled, then sighed: “Be my guest.”


End file.
